


"You Don't Want Me"

by Bisexualtrashlord



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, i mean kinda, post-season 1 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexualtrashlord/pseuds/Bisexualtrashlord
Summary: Just after the season 1 finale. Connor is faced with Oliver's diagnosis and decides how to go forward.





	

Connor stood like a statue while he watched Oliver cry into his pillow. The blinds were drawn, and the air felt still, wrong almost. Connor’s heart broke when he saw Oliver’s form tremble underneath the sheets while he sobbed. He wants to be there for him through this, to show him that he has a friend through this ordeal, no matter how long it takes. But right now, he wants him to stop crying.

He seeks to see the smile.

“Can…can I come in?” Connor muttered.

Oliver let out a hard sniffle, “I guess,” he mumbled.

Connor slowly crawled in the bed, over to Oliver’s sheet-covered body. He lifted his hand, and hesitantly placed his hand on Oliver’s shoulder, and began to rub slowly it. Oliver whimpered and turned over, digging into his chest gripping to his shirt and sobbing into his collar. “Oh, Oliver,” Connor murmured, drawing him into his arms as he rubbed circles on Oliver’s back, in an attempt to calm the shaking.

“I’m scared…”

“I know, I know.”

Connor and Oliver weren’t sure how long they stayed huddled like that. Somewhere, after what felt like an hour and a half, Oliver’s shaking sobs turned into tiny hiccups, which turned into heavy breathing. Connor pulled away slightly to see that Oliver was asleep. Squirming, he pulled out his phone, the bright light of the screen blinding him. Connor’s eyes are adjusted to the light: 8:30 PM.

Connor needed to do something, but he wasn’t sure what it should be. He unwrapped himself from the sheets and looked at the other man still fast asleep. The tear stains on his pillow were starting to fade away, and Oliver no longer had a vice-like a grip on the blanket. Connor looked around the living room; Oliver’s jacket and pants, along with magazines and books were strewn across the floor. Connor went to pick them up; he could, at least, make sure Oliver’s place was clean when he woke up. He went back to the threshold of the bedroom and took in Oliver’s sleeping form again. “Be right back,” he whispered though he doubted Oliver heard it

OOOOOOO

Oliver woke up and rubbed his eyes, wincing when he felt the sting and swelling in them, too much crying, he thought. He looked to the other side of the bed and found it empty. He figured as much, who would stick around after hearing the news. Then why did his sigh still feel so shaky? His thoughts were interrupted by a delicious smell wafting from the kitchen. That’s weird; he certainly remembers not cooking anything; he was in this bed the whole time.

Oliver dragged his feet to the kitchen and stopped in his tracks when he saw Connor, cooking away on the stove. “You’re still here?” Oliver croaked, wincing at the unintentionally harsh tone. Connor started and turned his head, a small smile on his face, “Oh, you’re awake, that’s great. I…I didn’t know when you’d be up, but I made you something if you were hungry. Nothing fancy, just eggs. I-I hope you don’t mind.”

Oliver shook his head, “No, no I don’t mind at all…um…thanks. Y-you didn’t have to…” “I know, I wanted to,” Connor muttered while he planted the food. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently. Oliver shrugged, “Fine, all things considered. I guess I should call Dr. Chen and set up an appointment to talk about…meds and stuff,” Oliver sighed before taking a bite of eggs.

“Let me-let I know when your appointment is; I’ll go with you."

 “You don’t have to, Connor.”

“I know, but I want to; that’s what boyfriends do, right?” Connor replied, pouring a cup of coffee.

“No…I mean yes but-but no. You don’t want me, not-not when I’m…sick,” Oliver bit.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t waste your time or energy on me; you should…you look for someone that; I don’t know…matches you more. Not some…not me,” Oliver choked, sniffling hard.

“Oliver…” Connor walked over and took Oliver’s shoulders in his hands, grounding him, looking him straight in the eye. “Oliver, listen to me. You are not a waste. You will never be a waste. You are amazing. Do you understand? I want to punch the crap out of whoever told you otherwise. And I know you’re scared, it’s a scary thing, but I want to be here, I do, I do. Only if you want me to be. I’ll back off if you want me to--”

“No! No, I…would like you here too,” Oliver whispered.

“Then it’s settled. It’s gonna be alright, Ollie.” Oliver tugged at Connor’s arms and brought him into a tight embrace, holding him close.

“Thank you, for staying last night.”

“Oh Ollie, I never wanna go.”


End file.
